Flame of Frost (The Caelestian Chronicles: Book #1)

Chapter 4 - The Most Awkward Day of My Life

"What is it?" I ask.

"Do you have any makeup at home?" Austin crosses his arms.

"My mom does." I nod. "Why?"

"You'll get it." He lifts a finger in dismissal. He steps closer and bends before me. I step back quickly, but not quick enough. Austin grabs me by the legs and tosses me over his shoulder.

Clawing at his back and twisting myself, I shriek. "Put me down! Oh god— put me the hell down now!"

"No." He says, tightening his grip. "You'll understand what I'm doing."

"I don't want to know!" I try to get away from him by pushing his muscled back. "Trying to kill me?"

"Right, on my shoulders." He sounds like he is rolling his eyes. "Just hold me tight."

"Uh... how about no?" I snarl, inching away myself from him as much as possible. If I couldn't even scratch him while standing, what the hell will I do while hanging upside down?

"Well, you don't have any choice," is all he gives for an explanation before he starts running.

Screaming, I feel like I am about to die. My ponytail sways front of me and my eyes water as the chilly air blasts in my face.
The bag starts slipping down my shoulders, I grab it and twist in in my hands.
Shutting my eyes, I hold onto Austin for dear life and swear I hear him laugh.

It is just a survival technique, I tell myself. Nothing else than that.

He is running as damn fast as a hover on land mode. Austin stops abruptly and puts me down. My legs are not capable of standing at that instant, so I fall on the ground and lay on the soft, green grass. My eyes are still closed and I pant from the trauma of the near-death experience. It lasted just a minute but it feels like it was longer. Maybe the moment stretched because I was positive that I was dying.

I open my eyes and find myself laying down in front of my house's porch. My breath clouds in front of my face as I sit up.

"H-how did you do that?" I gulp, which is hard with a parched throat. "It takes me about 15 minutes to walk to the church."
He shrugs.
"Wait, how do you know where I live?" I clutch the grass in my fists so tight, the roots start snapping.

"Who doesn't? You're one the most popular girls of Nottwill High," he says the last sentence in a singsong voice, rolling his eyes.

"What?" I scoff, pushing my palms into the grass and force myself to stand up. "No. I'm not popular. Wait, you go to Nottwill High?" I brush off whatever dust is on my pants.

"Yes, I do."

"Vampires go to school?" I ask, almost sure that my jaw has dropped.

"Yes, they do?" He rolls his eyes and gives me that are-you-that-dumb? look.

"Okay. H-how am I supposed to know?" So, that's how he knew my school name.

"Acceptable." He nods. "And yes, you're popular."

"No, I'm not."

"Everyone knows you."

"So?"

"Accept the fact, you're popular." He points a finger at my face, trying to prove himself right.
Stuck up walnut.

Popular is one of the words I hate, especially when used on me.
Neither do I care about school popularity nor I am actually close to that by definition.
"Okay, here's the thing " I start. "I'm usually not mean, I'm kind of nice—"